


Recentered

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Newly Human Castiel (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, Rescue, The Empty (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Dean rescues Cas from The Empty. What happens next?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nope, still mad. Not sure if I see Cas more as human or as angel so hey! Writing out both. For this fic there is at least one more chapter, possibly two. For the next one Cas is staying an angel and the story is probably closest to a fix-it post the finale.

Everything about this sits wrong. Dean shifts in his seat thinking his jeans are creased beneath his thighs, or that he left something there from their last drive. His grip on the wheel loosens as he moves, tugging at the back of his shirt collar, the buttons of his shirt, even attempting to adjust his belt buckle. Whatever is out of place is in him, not any of the material he's clad in. The fluttering starts at some point mid-chest, first a deep, slow-burning like those nights him and Sam have tried to out-spice each other with the dishes they've ordered from an Indian restaurant not far from the bunker. Then it creeps under his skin leaving everything thin, and tightened, clammy one moment then shivering with heat the next.

"Do you need me to drive?"

Dean grits his teeth, pressing the heel of his hand against the steering wheel focusing on the view out of the Impala windshield, leaving Sam's question unanswered as long as he can. "Uh, no."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Sam."

"You seem... fidgety."

Of course he's fidgety. Everything is wrong. Dean turns his head, doesn't need to do so much as raise an eyebrow. Sam knows it without him having to say a word out loud. He nods, determination fixing on his face, adjusting in his seat as best he can.

"So. Where are we headed?"

"Back to the bunker? Or we could call Jack?"

"Dean. He did say he wanted to do this hands-off."

"Yeah. But it's Cas, man. It's _Cas_. How come he hasn't got him out of that place already, huh? What's that about?"

Dean knows the answer. Dean knows that the only way to make all of this okay, to fix things for good this time, is all on him. He has to be the one to do this, because if he doesn't, how will Cas ever know how much he needs him around?

Needs him, wants him, loves him; it's strange after all these years of suppressing all these feelings that for being without Cas each of them stands out even starker, and louder. All those moments, and every one he's backed away from for being convinced Cas couldn't possibly feel the same as him. All the sleepless nights when he's composed messages, rehearsed conversations, stared at Cas just thinking at him, prayer or otherwise. How did Cas not know? How hasn't he already put on display everything that's in his heart? Dean knows he has to do this, to rescue Cas from The Empty, because how else is he going to be able to tell him how much he is loved?

"So. Bunker?" Dean repeats, thinking of shelves of books and who knows what else that might give them a clue, any clue, to get him to The Empty. This is something Dean knows for certain he has to do alone. For the symbolism of it, sure, but also, because Cas is his to save.

His.

Dean would be more euphoric for the realization if he wasn't so terrified by it. But now is not the time to give into that terror; isn't that the path he's gone down far too many times in the past? Without a word, he sits with fresh resolve to get this done right, checking their location and planning his route back to the bunker.

* * *

It's all simple enough, which Dean thinks is a sign of things being too easy. Surely they can't have this one win that doesn't cost more than they have to give? Though why can't they for once? Why can't one thing in his life be as easy as claiming what is his to have? It has to be, otherwise, everything they've lost and fought for has been for nothing. Dean rehearses the incantation he's learned under his breath and checks the ingredients for his spell one more time, pulling his knife from his back pocket.

What makes this easier to deal with is knowing that right now, however this turns out for him personally, Sam is going to be just fine. As he stands here in the dark beside the Impala ready to do what he needs to get his own life on track, Eileen should be arriving at the bunker. Sam's life is going to be far better than it ever has been up until now. So if Sam gets his happy, why the hell can't Dean find his as well? Didn't Cas tell him he is deserving of such things when he opened his heart to him and told him everything? Dean believes it now. More than that, he wants it. If he gets to have something good in his world just for him, why wouldn't he reach out and take it?

Too many questions. Too much thinking. He's stalling, Dean knows he is, a life of indecision and not letting himself have something just for him. Well, it's time to put that part of himself firmly in the past.

"I'm coming to get you, Cas," he says out loud into the darkness, sucking in cold air that stings at his lungs and truly makes Dean feel alive.

With the practiced motion of years of doing it, Dean takes his knife and slashes at his palm, speaking loud, and clear, and true as the spell comes together. Because of course, getting what he wants means a little loss of blood.

* * *

The Empty is the exact void Dean has envisioned every time Cas told him about it, roaring in its silence and blinding in the darkness that is all around. Every step is uncertain as much as it is steady. Every noise imagined as sure as it is not. The fluttering of his heart reminds Dean he is living and breathing here, though it helps to press his hand to his chest to be sure.

He isn't alone. The hairs stand on the back of his neck reminding Dean that all around him, angels and demons are sleeping, dreaming, and probably reliving all of their worst times. Could he bump into them while walking, disturb them from their slumber and wreak havoc all around? Could whoever is residing here now to look over all these sleeping beings be watching him as he moves, seeing his hands out to the sides with his palms extended like he is walking a tightrope and just waiting for him to fall?

Cas. Cas is why he's here. Dean steadies himself with the reminder, reciting the last of the spell's components recentering his purpose. He closes his eyes, which is pointless here in the dark, but it helps him to focus on the pull in his core leading him where he is meant to go. It also helps to picture Cas in his thoughts instead of seeing this never-ending nothingness. Cas is where he is supposed to go. Who was it that told him to follow his heart? Countless people, surely. Mildred is the one who stands out for Dean now as he walks, Cas' name forever on his lips while he tries not to breathe too loud.

He searches, for hours or days, Dean can't tell, every step he takes feeling like he is closer to getting somewhere and also further away from everything he knows. Time, existence, nothing has any meaning here, and why should it? Nothing is supposed to be awake. Who knows; maybe for immortal beings The Empty is a writhing, swirling hell of something that is beyond his human vision. Maybe Cas could never explain truly just what The Empty is, because no words could ever recreate it accurately enough. Or maybe the true horror of it all is the nothingness. Maybe his mind is playing tricks on him because his senses can't interpret anything around him.

It's worth it. All of this is worth it, however long this takes, and however hard getting Cas out of here is going to be. Every moment Dean knows despair at getting nowhere he reminds himself of all the things Cas deserves, and all the things he wants for himself. They're having their happy ending. Screw everything else. Screw anyone and anything who has ever stood in their way, for anything.

He's here. Cas. Dean drops to his knees beside him even though he can't see, knowing without question that he's finally found him. The moment he lays his hand on Cas' chest, everything in Dean knows peace and certainty. And he can _see_ him. Now all he needs to do is figure out how to wake him up.

"Cas?"

Cas doesn't stir. Of course he doesn't. His mind is somewhere taunting him with all things probably beyond Dean's imagination. It's the thought that some of those things might involve him that gives Dean fresh determination. He moves to sit cross-legged, having no idea how long this is going to take. But he isn't going anywhere. Not without Cas.

"You know. On the way here, I rehearsed all these things I wanted to tell you, all these promises I wanted to make. I planned them all out perfectly, too. But I'm tired, Cas. I'm tired of having all these things I need to say to you, and never getting to say them out loud. To you; not in some prayer, or imagined conversation in the middle of the night just wishing you were around to hear it—to say something back to you. Properly.

"And when you did say something, I was just way, way too out of it with everything happening to reply. I hate it. I hate you going like you did, thinking I didn't have anything to say to you back. So, you know, what, Cas? I need you to wake up, now. I need you to get up, so I can get you out of here, and we'll go somewhere, and really talk. Because I need you, Cas. I need you, in so many ways, for so many things. But it's more than that. I want you, too. In all kinds of ways. And, uh, the first time I tell you how I feel properly, you better damn well be awake to hear it."

Nothing. Cas isn't even stirring. Dean refuses to panic because he can't even feel his heart. This is The Empty, and Cas is an angel; he shouldn't be treating him like a human, searching for a heartbeat or pulse. And he needs to keep going.

"C'mon, Cas. There has to be all kinds of places you'd prefer to be than in here, right? Any place you wanna go, we'll go, okay? Even if it means flying. Or, how about this? You, me, Baby, the open road. Sam and Eileen could come too, obviously, but honestly, Cas? I think they need some alone time. They deserve some alone time, after everything, and you know what? So do we. Some quiet. Damn; a real, honest, easy day.

"You know. On the way here, I thought about all the things I wanted to say to you. All the cheesiest, tackiest one-liners, all that stupid stuff. And I'd have meant every word of every one of them. But I want to say them to you, I want for you to be able to look me in the eye when I say it, even if it scares the hell out of me and I fall over my own tongue trying. I want that. You deserve that. I can't believe you'd even pick me, of all people, but you did, and I'm... I need you, Cas," Dean says, his voice cracking as he squeezes his eyes shut to stop himself crying.

Pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, Dean rolls back on to his knees, leaning over Cas. He first squeezes his shoulder, and then with trembling fingers pushes the hair back from his forehead before finally cupping his face in his hand. Should his skin be cold? Warm? Cas feels so vital there beneath his palm but so unmoving. What else needs to be done?

"Cas," Dean says, with his voice breaking again, "hey, Cas, can you look at me? Please? Please? Just open your eyes for me, okay? Cas, please; after everything, after all you'd done—and with everything you mean to me—please don't tell me you don't think you deserve to be saved?"

He stirs slowly, chest rising and falling first and then his arms twitching down by his sides. Dean gasps for seeing it, drawing back to watch at first and then curling his hand through one of Cas' pleading over and over for him to wake. He watches Cas frown with his eyes closed, a slight parting of his lips, and then as he appears to freeze like he's just remembered where he is. Dean's heart stops when Cas blinks his eyes open staring up at him in shock, and he has no control over his own limbs as he drapes over him, sobs wracking through his body.

"Dean?"

With a groan of relief, Dean drops his forehead on Cas' shoulder, squeezing back when he feels Cas' fingers twitch. An inquisitive hand pats at his side and all Dean can think is how much he needs to hold him. Though not like this.

"Hey, Cas," he says, sitting up and back-handing away his tears, though refusing to let go of his hand.

"Why are you here?"

There are so many things he could say, so many glib comments he would once have made when joking was the easiest way to avoid talking. He won't be doing that now.

"Because. You and me were in the middle of a pretty big conversation and I didn't get to say a word back. And I want to. I need to say so many things to you, Cas."

"Like what?"

Cas has every right to look as suspicious as he does. And Dean thinks he has every right, for that suspicious look on Cas' face, to be falling in love with him all over again. To feel that love, and all that comes with it, and for once acknowledge it. For once bathe in the knowledge that he too is loved.

"Like, how I'm done with you having to sacrifice yourself for me, or for anybody. Like, you deserve way, way more than I've given you up to now. Like, I don't know, Cas. Everything. I have everything to say to you."

Cas continues to look suspicious. Why wouldn't he? He still hasn't really told him a damn thing. There is a corner of Dean's mind that is imagining some perfect setting for some schmaltzy love confession, and here, in The Empty, this isn't it. But since when was schmaltzy ever going to be them?

"Like, how you left before I got the chance to say it back."

"Say what back?"

Cas, at his most stubborn and ornery, is one of Dean's favorite things about him. He shouldn't be smiling like he is, this is not the moment for it. Or maybe it's just the moment for it.

"That, I love you too. That, I have loved you, for a long time; I just didn't let myself really feel it."

Cas still isn't moving. "Why?"

"Because, Cas. I was just never sure that you felt the same back. And I guess I just... didn't want to risk putting it out there, if you'd just look at me like I grew six heads. Because you couldn't feel the same back. Because you're an angel, and maybe you don't feel the things that we do, or... I don't know, Cas," Dean says then, squeezing his hand again. "For a lot of reasons. Stupid ones, mainly. I still felt it."

Slowly, Cas sits up, looking down at their joined hands. He raises his head giving Dean a cautious smile, and, after a longer pause, runs his thumb over the back of Dean's. Dean is adamant he's never felt anything so tender from anybody.

"You came here, to tell me that?" Cas asks, his voice gruffer than normal. Is it from sleep? Dean's words?

"That, and to get you out of here."

"Out of The Empty?"

"Yeah, Cas. Out of here. Home. With me."

Home. What is home going to look like when they get back? Muscle memory tells Dean they'll go on hunting, but his heart just isn't is it. They'll figure it all out. Just as soon as they get back.

"Dean. Are you sure?"

"That I want to get you out of here? Yeah, Cas."

Cas licks his lips, looking nervous with him even now. Aren't they always at their most vulnerable when they're being honest with one another? "I meant, are you sure. About us. About the words we have said to each other, and what they mean."

He wants to give Cas everything. Dean raises their joined hands to kiss the back of Cas' keeping eye contact as he does. "I'm as sure about us as I've been about anything. No; that's not right; I'm more sure. I mean, yeah, Cas. I'm sure. Just... come home, Cas. We'll figure it all out."

"Permanently." Why does Cas now sound so unsure?

"Yeah. Permanently."

"There is one way to guarantee I won't ever be brought back to this place."

Oh. _Yes_. Whatever it takes for Cas to never have to come back here.

"You mean aside from Jack being... you know."

"Yes."

"What?"

Cas frowns, opening his mouth to speak and then dropping his gaze to their hands again. "I need to know, that you won't change your mind. That you aren't only telling me these things so that I will leave, willingly."

"Why would I do that? Cas; why wouldn't you want to leave?"

Cas' smile is bitter, and makes Dean's heart race. "I want to leave. I also want to know what am I leaving for. Where I am needed."

"Needed? Who says you have to be needed anywhere? Can't you just _be_ somewhere?"

"Dean," Cas says, with pleading in his eyes. Why do they both struggle so much with things they need to say?

"You're needed, because, I need you. Because I need you in my life, Cas. I want you in my life. Not to serve, or to save, or hunt, or for any of that. Just to be with me. If you want that too, obviously."

"I do. More than you know."

"Then, what's the problem? What aren't you telling me, here?" Dean asks, for knowing when Cas is stalling for time.

Cas stares at him, freezing Dean in place like he so often does. "Am I coming back, to be with you, or am I coming back, because you don't think I should be in here?"

"You shouldn't be in here."

"Then, where should I be? Should I be helping Jack, or—"

"With me, Cas," Dean says, squeezing his hand, horrified for the thought of getting Cas home only for him to leave yet again. "You should be with me. I want you to be with me. But what do you want, Cas? For you; what do you want for you? Forget about anything else for a second; what do you want?"

Cas' eyes flood with tears. Dean has to move closer to him, still holding his hand but draping an arm around his shoulders. "I want to live, Dean. I want to _be_. Only that."

"Like, human?"

"Yes."

"You'd give up all your power, and strength, and everything else, to be human?" Dean asks. It isn't that he can't picture it for Cas. It's the way his breath catches for thinking he might be about to get everything he's ever dared to want but doesn't think is his to have.

"You asked what I wanted, for myself."

"And it's that?"

Cas nods. "That, and you."

How can he not smile for hearing that. Dean squeezes his shoulder then pulls back so Cas can see him nod. "Then, let's do it. You and me. Let's... go be human. Normal, whatever that looks like."

Cas' smile is the most beautiful thing Dean thinks he's ever seen. He knocks his shoulder against Dean's, then nods at his lap. "Your knife."

"My what?"

"Knife, Dean."

"Uh..."

Cas rolls his eyes, which Dean loves, leaning across him and gesturing for Dean to lean to the side. "If I am to become human," he says as he helps himself to Dean's knife, "then there is one thing I need to be without."

Oh. "Your grace."

"Yes."

"You're gonna just hack it out of you?"

Cas turns the knife, offering Dean the handle and raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, no. I... I'm right here with you," Dean says, sliding his hand back into Cas', "but I don't think I can do that to you. Not something that's gonna hurt."

Cas nods in understanding. Dean raises their hands to kiss the back of his again. He holds on tight, smiling and gritting his teeth, terrified for how much Cas might be hurting. He won't look away, he won't leave Cas alone, and if he needs to, he will carry Cas out of here.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Cas is asleep. On his pillow, in his bed, underneath his comforter that is tucked up right beneath his chin. Dean can't believe it, even if he was the one who cradled Cas to him when he collapsed in The Empty, and he was the one who laid him out on the back seat of the Impala when he got him out. The memory of watching Cas' grace seep from him for the last time Dean thinks might be one that stays with him a lifetime, but once Cas finally wakes he'll try only to think on the good that's come of it. Cas is here, safe, and whole, and has an entire future ahead of him. A human one, and then who knows what else beyond? They have Jack looking over them now, and Dean can't help imagine how wherever they end up from here on out, they'll be just fine.

He just needs him to wake up. How long Cas might need to recover from removing his grace Dean doesn't know. But he'll be here for it, however long he needs to wait. He's left only long enough for the bathroom and some water, not wanting Cas to wake up alone. From this chair and with one eye on the bed, Dean has texted Sam to find out why they came back to an empty bunker. That Sam and Eileen are off somewhere starting their own adventure seems fitting, and also gives Dean reassurance that his and Cas' conversation won't be overheard. Whenever they get to have it. Dean has to ignore the urge he has to wake him, impatient for the next part of their lives to get started. They'll get there. They'll get everything. He just needs to learn a little patience.

If nothing else, it's nice to see Cas so relaxed. He looks cozy there tucked up in bed, and knowing when he wakes there'll be all kinds of new things for him to discover makes waiting a little easier for Dean. He can't wait to see Cas choose the clothes he wants to wear, the shows he wants to watch, and is just in the middle of imagining what he might cook him for his first meal for a while when he sees Cas beginning to stir. Dean leans forward in his chair both pleading with Cas to wake up and terrified of what comes next. But in a good way. When Cas finally blinks open his eyes, all Dean can really do is smile.

"Hey, Cas."

"Dean."

Is Cas like him in the mornings? Slow to wake, useless before coffee? Dean's excited to find out. He's excited about everything.

"How are you doing?"

Cas groans as he pushes himself upright, hair in every direction. Why is that such a beautiful thing to see? Dean watches as he unbuttons his shirt thinking that he needs to sort him out some clothes, relieved that there is only a light scar as visible reminder of where he pulled his grace from.

"Okay."

"You sure?"

Cas traces his thumb along the scar before looking up. "Yes."

"Good. So, uh. You need to sleep some more? Eat something? Anything you need?"

"Food, I think. Also, to be clean," Cas adds, holding up his arm and giving his shirt sleeve a cautious sniff.

Dean does not dwell on the thought of Cas taking a shower. "Okay. So, how about you take a shower, and I'll fix us something to eat?"

The moment Cas nods Dean is up across the room finding Cas sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved t-shirt to wear. He pulls out socks and a pair of boxers, startling when he turns to find Cas stood right beside him.

"You know, Cas. I thought the whole creeping up on me thing was an angel thing."

The crinkles at the corners of Cas' eyes steals all of Dean's attention making him almost drop the bundle of clothes he's holding on to.

"No."

"Okay. Good. I, uh... should show you where everything is. In the bathroom."

Cas only watches him fall over his own words. Dean sort of loves that as well.

"Dean. I remember how to take a shower."

"Wasn't suggesting you didn't." Dean's throat doesn't dry out at all for what he's picturing. Not at all. "I just... you know how Sam gets when you use his shampoo."

"Yes. I remember that." Again Cas' eyes crinkle with mirth and Dean finds it near impossible to look away.

In the bathroom Dean finds Cas a spare toothbrush and points out which toiletries to use, leaving him a couple of towels to one side. They'll have to buy him razors, and shaving cream, and all kinds of other things. That he's excited for the thought of something as simple as shopping with Cas shouldn't be a surprise to him but Dean is surprised. There isn't anything he doesn't want to experience with him.

Dean starts to make them eggs, toast, and coffee, determined their next meal will be a more elaborate affair. Again Cas surprises him with a silent return, this time his crinkling eyes accompanied with an amused smile.

"What? You gonna make this a thing, Cas? Getting a thing out of making jump out my own skin?"

Cas walks behind him, pouring the coffee Dean put on. "Yes."

Dean likes it, which makes no sense at all, busying himself with grabbing their toast, aware of how ridiculously he is smiling. "Well. Good."

Cas devours the eggs and toast in minutes, waving away Dean's suggestion of more food. They make quick work of clearing up and then there is nothing left to delay them talking. Dean wants to drink, though stops himself from suggesting it. This is a conversation they both need to have with clear heads.

"I really didn't know you could feel like that about me," Dean says as soon as they're sat, before he loses his courage. The library seemed a good choice for talking in because while there is a whole table between them, they have to look each other in the eye.

Of course Cas is looking him in the eye. When hasn't he trapped Dean just by staring at him? "I knew there was no possibility of you returning it."

"Now, see, that's where you're wrong. Really wrong."

"Dean. How was I supposed to know?" Cas asks, with both exasperation and pleading in his eyes.

"None of that came through in any of my prayers? With how I was around you the whole time?"

"You were pissed at me. A lot."

Fair, but not what Dean wants to hear. "I know. And I'm sorry."

"You called me your brother. Numerous times."

"Yeah. Because I thought that's what you wanted to hear."

"I wanted to belong somewhere," Cas says, steepling his fingers against the table like he doesn't know what to do with his hands.

He needs to be brave. Dean adjusts his elbows against the table then drops down his arm, extending his hand. He waits, watching Cas looking at his fingers, knowing relief when Cas slots his own through. Dean feels anchored for it, and like he's flying. This is something so simple, and yet for them is anything but. But in a good way. They just have to get this part out of the way, first.

"Cas, you do belong somewhere. You always have. You're part of this family. And this family is weird sometimes, scattered out all over the place. But you're here, a part of it. You belong with us."

Cas is quiet as Dean cradles his hand between his own, watching as he runs his thumb over his knuckles. "I hope so."

"You do. I promise you that."

"Where is Sam?"

"Out somewhere with Eileen," Dean says.

Cas nods, slowly, trapping Dean's thumb beneath his own. "I see."

"They have a lot to talk about too."

"Yes."

"Is there anything you want to say?" Dean asks, cursing himself for stalling yet again.

"I think I said what I needed to already."

"All of it?" Why can't he just stop?

"Dean."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," Dean says, clearing his throat as he squeezes Cas' hand. "Look. I'm not great at this, okay? Which is a lame excuse. But I'm trying here. Give me a minute."

"Do you need me to leave?"

"What? No—"

"I meant, do you need me to leave the library, be out of your eyeline, perhaps face the other way, so you can say what you need to out loud? You always spoke far more clearly in your prayers than face to face."

Dean frowns and smiles, because Cas is smiling at him in a new way he doesn't know what to do with yet; even if he loves it. "Cas. Are you mocking me?"

"Yes."

Okay, he loves that too. "I guess I deserve that."

"You do."

"I love you, Cas," Dean blurts out without even meaning to, his heart already pounding. Cas' smile is triumphant, even if he's starting to tear up.

"Thank you."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean says in a hurry, squeezing his hand and peering around the library before looking back at him. When he does, Cas is trying to follow his gaze, and the look on his face is just plain adorable. Damn, he could get used to seeing this all the time. He _will_ get used to it.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. Just... making sure saying it out loud isn't gonna get either one of us dragged off somewhere, or some hellhole opening."

Cas laughs at him. Dean loves that as well. Is there any better feeling than all of this? "I think we are safe, Dean."

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I need to test it again. I love you," Dean says, loud and clear and far too giddy to care that he's being an idiot. It's worth it for the look of delight on Cas' face, and the joy in his own heart.

Cas takes his turn to look around the room. "Dean. I think we are safe."

"Well, good."

"Yes."

"Actually," Dean says, swirling his thumbs over the back of his hand, "I have more I need to say. Lots of it. Honestly? I don't think I'll even be able to say it all now. But I want to start. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

He wants to keep this playful, and lighthearted, but Dean also needs Cas to realize how much he means his words. "The thing is, when you were gone—I mean before; all the times you were gone before—I didn't... I wasn't doing too well. With you being gone, I mean. Without you."

"I understand."

"No. You don't, Cas," Dean says, gripping on to him harder. "You don't. I mourned you. I buried you. Hell, I lost myself when I was sure you weren't ever coming back. So many times. And I argued with you, over everything, because it's easier, right? For me, anyway. Getting angry all the time?"

"That is not who you are."

"No. It isn't. But it's who I was supposed to be. Maybe? I don't know, Cas," Dean says with a deep sigh, unable to look at him. "I don't know. Sometimes there's so much anger in me, I don't even know where it's coming from. I hate that feeling. And I can't pretend it's coming from somewhere else; it's all on me. But I'm sorry, Cas. For whenever I've let my anger get the better of me and taken it out on you."

"I know."

"And when I made you leave the bunker that time," Dean adds, swallowing back a fresh taste of bitterness for remembering. There are many things that keep Dean awake at night, or his mind racing throughout the day. That one stands out clearly, no matter how many years have passed.

"There were reasons—"

"Yeah, but you had nothing. Nobody. I should've... I wish I could take it all back."

"If we could both take back all of the ways we have hurt one another, perhaps we wouldn't even be here now," Cas points out. He's giving him the easy way out of this, and Dean wants to argue. Though why does he even want to spend a second arguing with Cas?

"I don't want us to be the kind of people who don't talk about things, Cas. I know we are those people, or, we have been. But I want better for us."

"Then, we have many changes to make. I don't believe we can make them overnight."

"No, I know that. None of this comes with an easy fix. But things are different now. We're different. Everything is," Dean says, thinking again of a life that isn't directed purely by looking for the next hunt. What will that look like? What will they look like? He hasn't a clue; maybe that's the most exciting part of it all.

"Yes. We are."

"You more than any of us. You're human now, Cas. You doing okay so far?"

"I have done this before."

"Yeah. I know. I just want to get everything right for you this time around. Not that this is all on me, obviously. This is all on you now. You get to decide what you want."

"Right now?" Cas says, back to that teasing smile.

"No. Not at all. But if you maybe want to make some decisions about dinner, that'd be good."

"We just ate."

"Right." Why is he stalling, again? Dean gives Cas' hands a final squeeze then scrapes his chair back across the floor, standing to walk around to Cas' side of the table. Not even sure what he's meaning to do, Dean extends his hand, pulling Cas to his feet. Cas' smile is nervous, a touch of doubt in his eyes as he steps closer. How has he put such a look on his face? "Can I ask you for something, Cas?"

Cas nods, giving Dean time to swallow back the nervousness he is feeling.

"Can I, uh. Hug you?"

"Since when do you ask?" Cas replies, with tears in his eyes.

Dean gets his arms around him, sagging in relief for finally having him so close. Cas just melts against him, and this? This is everything Dean wants. Everything he's needed these past days. Dean tucks his face into Cas' neck and lets his eyes fall closed, reveling in the knowledge that this really is the start of their new future together. He has no idea how long they hold one another, but Dean is already having difficulty letting go. "C'mon," he says, taking Cas' hand and nodding for them to leave. If he doesn't, Dean is sure he might hug him for the rest of the day. Without words, without worries, without any difficulty at all. Which he wants. But giving Cas some certainty Dean thinks is what he needs most of all.

"Where are we going?"

Dean first relishes in how easy and natural it is to be holding Cas' hand as they walk. "Well. I don't have any idea what our future looks like, but for now, at least, this place is home. For all of us. And no matter what happens between me and you, I want you to have a place here. A room, that's just yours. I want you to know, that you have somewhere, no matter what, Cas. That's more important to me than anything. I mean, it's not—you are. But this?" he says, coming to a stop outside what has been Cas' room on and off for years. "This is yours. Whether you use it for storage, or if you get mad at me and want to be somewhere. It's yours."

"I would prefer not to be mad at you."

Dean laughs, and because he can't resist, turns Cas until they're face to face. He rests a hand on his waist, relishing that they can do this now. That Cas only stands still like he isn't sure what he's supposed to do, almost breaks his heart. Has he made him doubt his sincerity, even now?

"Well, Cas. Considering the way you used to look at me like you might smite the life right out of me, I'd also prefer it if you weren't mad at me."

"I can't do that now."

"No. You can't. And this time, it's permanent. I don't know how long you might need to adjust to that, but I'm here for you. Okay, Cas? Whatever you need."

"Thank you."

"Why are you being so polite with me, Cas?" Dean asks softly, dropping his hand and tugging him closer.

Cas' eyes flare wide, though he raises his hands to rest against Dean's chest. Does he not want to touch him? Does he not want that sort of relationship with him? Does—

"Dean," Cas says, with a soft desperation in his voice, gripping on to his shirt. He drops his head on Dean's shoulder and crowds closer, sighing against him when Dean slots his fingers together at the small of his back.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Cas says, lifting his head again, looking at him with a look of such openness it puts tears in Dean's eyes.

Dean leans closer, pressing his forehead against Cas', and sure even more than he has been these past few hours that everything is going to be alright. Cas loosens his grip on him and instead rests his hands on his shoulders, pulling back with an expression that is a louder _what now?_ than any out loud words would be.

Carefully, gauging his reaction for guidance, Dean ducks his head and brushes his lips over Cas'. When Cas only chases it Dean kisses him firmer, closing his eyes in relief as Cas kisses back. Everything else, everything they will ever be, they'll deal with it, together. One moment at a time.

* * *


End file.
